The Widening Gyre
by MLoreley85
Summary: A Blight threatens all of Ferelden, and Evelyn Amell bears the burden of driving the darkspawn out of her land. Despite having others at her side to share her burden- including Alistair, the only other Grey Warden in Ferelden- she feels her center come undone. (Amell/Alistair, with Cousland OC)
1. Chapter 1: Purpose

The Widening Gyre  
_Chapter One: Purpose_

_Darkness. Surrounded by it, it ate away at her, stretched her thin. And in the darkness, a sound, a song. She couldn't breathe, but she wanted to lift her voice and join with her brethren. No, no, she shook her head free of the thought; they were not her brethren, they were evil incarnate, they were the darkness, they were poison. She wrenched herself from the darkness, but there was no light to seek, and then there were eyes, oh Maker the eyes of death itself, fiery and furious. A horrid, blessed roar filled the darkness with terrible light, a fire that scorched her skin and tainted what it touched, and sank inside her, and she screamed and screamed and-_

"Evelyn!" A grip on her shoulders, shaking her, holding her in place. "Evelyn, it's alright! It's just a dream!"

Her eyes snapped open, and before she could register the face looking down on her, she bolted upright to flee that darkness still clinging to her. When her forehead cracked against the young man's chin, however, she yelped in pain.

"Ye-owww!" She groaned, clapping her hands over her head. After a beat, she looked over to her friend, who was now massaging the offending chin. "Goodness, I'm so sorry! Are you alright, Alistair?"

"I've got a better question; are _you_ alright?" Despite the residual sting, he had to stifle the grin at her concern. "You were thrashing pretty badly."

Parting the veil between herself and the nightmare that had ripped her apart only moments before, Evelyn couldn't suppress the shudder that overtook her. Seeing her shivering and starting to hyperventilate, Alistair shifted from his kneel and settled in beside her, cautiously resting his arm around her shoulders.

"Hey, it's okay now," he soothed, smiling. The smile vanished when she tilted her head against his chest, seeking the comfort he was offering without regard to propriety.

"What was that, Alistair?" She asked after a moment, feeling her heart settle back into an easy rhythm after a frantic scrabble to escape her chest.

"Every Grey Warden, after their Joining, experiences terrible nightmares. I certainly did, for months afterwards," he began, staring at the campfire to steady his thoughts. "It comes with the territory, you know? The taint lets us sense the darkspawn, but there are side effects."

"Side effects," she muttered, still nestled against him.

"Yeah. And I hear that it's worse for people who join during a Blight." He sighed, and gave her shoulders one more friendly squeeze. They remained huddled like that, two survivors momentarily insulated against the others milling about the camp, staring at the fire as it flickered and danced. When the fear began to ebb, and Evelyn showed signs of drowsiness returning, Alistair smiled towards her. "Are you going to be alright now?"

Sensing him withdrawing, Evelyn sat upright again, and gave him her best attempt at a smile. "I think so. Thank you, Alistair, for waking me, and for staying with me."

"Well of course!" He laughed to mask the sudden pang in his chest at the warmth in her tone. "I still owe you for putting up with my whining, after all."

Her gaze softened, and she pulled away from her comfortable nestling spot against him to look up at him. "I have endured nothing from you, Alistair. I have been honored to share in your grief. I would-"

Just as a flicker of awareness lit his eyes, the startled cry of a young woman cut through the silence of the camp. Alistair was on his feet in seconds, retrieving his sword from where he'd left it by the campfire. Less acclimated to being battle-ready, Evelyn needed a moment before she grabbed for her staff and followed after the charging Alistair, towards the sounds of battle.

"Aaagh!" A man cried as a thin blade grazed the outside of his arm, hissing as a secondary jab of pain set in. As Alistair and Evelyn grew near, they could make out silhouettes in the darkness, writhing in close combat around a single hooded figure. Despite the odds against them, the hooded one held their ground, keeping each attack at bay with a deft, quick parry of their daggers.

In the lead by several paces, Alistair caught sight of one of the men moving behind the lone figure, and lunged forward. Just as the man poised his sword to strike against his target, Alistair's blade clanged hard against the deadly weapon in an upward thrust, disarming the man and sending the sword flying into the tall grass.

Startled by the sound of blades meeting so close behind them, the hooded figure whirled to face their would-be protector in surprise. The hood slid back an inch, revealing the young woman that had cried out before; dark violet eyes that sharpened on sight of her 'hero', pale skin that glowed in the moonlight, and raven curls that spilled from the hood. Her face was set grimly, and as she returned her focus to the battle, Alistair had a bewildering sense that she'd disapproved of what she'd seen.

More footsteps approached from the camp, much to Evelyn's relief. Having finally caught up, she positioned herself alongside the woman, and focused her will on conjuring... what would be most effective at controlling the field? Ah yes; _ice_. She swept her hand in an arc in front of her, and in the wake of the motion, ice crystals formed around the feet of the men attacking the hooded woman. Evelyn grinned at her success; the men were trapped in place.

While the men muddled over their sudden predicament, Alistair seized the opportunity of their confusion to thrust into the man flanking the strange woman. His blade met little resistance; the man's leather armor was worn and thinned out. He doubled over, collapsing instantly.

"Look out!" A clear voice called from behind the party, and just as Evelyn glanced towards the source, an arrow sailed over her head and sunk into the eye of the man who had turned on the mageling in her distraction. As the man toppled backwards, Evelyn gave her rescuer a strained grin.

"G-good shot, Leliana! Th-thanks!" she stammered, the reality of how close she'd come to being gutted shaking her some. The redhead nodded with a smile, and loaded her next arrow.

With her foes suddenly incapable of escaping her, the hooded woman launched into a flurry of movement that could only barely be followed; one dagger through a man's throat, the other slicing across another man's belly, and with one final stab, she plunged her dagger straight into the last man's heart. With a stare colder than the ice at their feet, she twisted her blade, sending a convulsion through him.

"Are you alright?" Alistair asked, unsure if he meant it of Evelyn, who was shivering still from her brush of terror, or the woman pulling her dagger out of her last enemy. While Evelyn nodded, it was the woman who responded.

"I am fine. Your help was entirely unnecessary." When she spoke, the woman's tone had a chill reminiscent of the autumn air around them. "I had the situation under control."

"You were outnumbered six-to-one," Alistair pointed out grumpily. "Forgive us for thinking you might need some backup."

"Play hero with some other damsel in distress," she replied coldly. "You could start with this trembling mouse; she looks ready to collapse."

"I do _not_- nnh," Evelyn bristled, changing her mind on negating her statement; she _was_ shaking, despite having been in at least a few battles by now. "Very well; you are ungrateful for our aid. You are certainly not alone in that regard."

"Oh, so you make a habit of interfering where you are not wanted?" the woman asked in silvery tones. "Color me shocked!"

"Oh yes. I personally have made a vow to stop bandits from stabbing women in the back because I know how much _living_ inconveniences them," Alistair scowled.

The woman stiffened with the sudden lividity as though she'd been physically slapped. The flare of grief and anger across her expression tightened her features, and for the first time since she boldly rounded on her rescuers, the woman averted her gaze from them.

Seeing her recoil, Alistair opened his mouth to apologize- a habit beaten into him from years spent in the chantry- when Evelyn's hand on his arm stopped him. Instead, the mage studied the young woman- who indeed was young, now that she got a good look at her- with a softened expression. She was all too familiar with what had cast ripples of pain across the stone visage of this dark maiden.

"I do not know what has brought you out this far from civilization," she began tentatively, "But right now, traveling alone is inadvisable. Among the normal dangers awaiting you, there is a darkspawn horde making its way north."

"I am well aware of the darkspawn threat," she snapped. "I have heard the rumors of the failure of the Grey Wardens to quell the horde. No, despite your presumption that I am both helpless _and_ ignorant, I am making my way south in full knowledge of what awaits me. My purpose supersedes any potential danger I may face."

"And what purpose is that?" Leliana queried, her curiosity getting the better of her.

The woman glared at the intruder to the conversation sharply enough to cut off further questioning. "My purpose is my own. If you will excuse me."

With a flutter of her cloak, tucking her hood back over her face, the woman looked to the stars above for guidance and began southward. Before she made it even three paces, she was halted by a pair of hands latching around her elbow, twisting her back around.

"Please, no!" Evelyn begged the moment those violet eyes met hers. "I beg you, do not do this! No matter your purpose, it is not worth throwing yourself to the darkspawn over! Heading that way is certain doom!"

The woman yanked her arm away from the mage, struck by the sincerity in her pleading. "What do you care what happens to me? I am none of your concern!" After a breath, she added, "There are things more important than my life at stake. What I seek is... is the last shred of life I have, anyway."

"What is it you seek, that you are willing to throw yourself on a darkspawn pike to seek it out?" Evelyn demanded, her face turning red. "Because that is exactly what will happen if you insist on this!"

"That is _none_ of your business, _mage_," she answered icily.

"It _is_ my business, because I will never condone _suicide_!"

As her cry echoed in the grassy field, Evelyn flinched to see the shadows finally consume the woman's face in her outrage. After a pause of furious silence, she spoke slowly, balanced on a blade's edge between calm and murderous, "And what has made _you_ so passionately impertinent as to intrude in my life, to dictate my actions for me?"

"Too many have already died because of the darkspawn." The opening of a still-fresh wound brought tears to Evelyn's eyes, glittering moonlight against the blue and down her cheeks. "Many more _will_ die, and there's nothing I can do to prevent that. But so help me, I will not willingly let someone go to what I know will kill them!"

Doubt marred the stony anger in the woman's expression, and when she spoke, there was a softness to her tone. "Who are you to take this burden onto yourself? Surely you are not responsible for the darkspawn, dear girl."

"No, she's not," Alistair interjected, coming to stand beside Evelyn. "But I suspect she would take the weight of the world on her shoulders even if she _weren't_ a Grey Warden."

At the mention of the ancient order, the woman went rigid, and her hand went to the hilt of her blade out of instinct, though she hesitated to draw it. Her eyes narrowed on the both of them, and she hissed, "_Grey Warden_?"

In answer to seeing her go for her blade, Alistair's hand went to his- vulnerable young lady or not, he wasn't about to let her attack one of the few things holding him together anymore. He frowned. "I see you've swallowed the rumors going around about us."

Her eyes darted from the tiny mageling to her bodyguard. "The _both_ of you- I see." She took a step away from the two of them, keeping an eye on the redhead for any funny movements. "I have heard many conflicting stories of the events at Ostagar. I know that you were tasked with defeating this darkspawn incursion before it spread, that you called for men and women across the kingdom to aid in your war. I know that in this, you failed, and your arrogance cost us dearly."

"First of all, it was Cailan who called for reinforcements, not the Grey Wardens," Alistair retorted, growling. "Second of all, we took every precaution we could. Had Loghain not betrayed us, had he joined the battle as planned, we would have stood a chance-"

"Or you would have _all_ died, along with him and his men, leaving us both without Grey Wardens _and_ without anyone else to fight the darkspawn," the woman sneered, before deliberately focusing herself away from her anger. "I am not sure what to believe about all of this. There was a betrayal of trust, that much is obvious; who did the betraying is still unclear."

"If you don't mind taking your hands away from your weapons, I believe we can settle this peacefully?" Leliana stepped closer, her hands up in a gesture of congeniality. "What is important here is that these two are Grey Wardens- the last two in all of Ferelden- and they are working to save us all from the Blight. Oh, and they _did_ save you just now." She grinned. "It might be fair to remember that, too."

While irritation flickered in her eyes, the woman relaxed, contenting herself with crossing her arms instead. "Yes... you _did_ intervene on my behalf, welcome or not. I cannot fault your sincerity, misplaced as your protectiveness of a perfect stranger is."

"Please... come with us," Evelyn asked, holding out her hand to the woman with a faint smile. "We could use someone as skilled as you are to help against the Blight. I would sooner you fight darkspawn at our side, than completely alone."

The woman regarded her in silence, before replying, "I... I cannot. My brother..."

"Your brother?" Alistair interrupted. "You're seeking your brother?"

Her head tipped forward as grief overwhelmed her, the hood sliding further over her face. "He is all I have left. I need to find him, to know if... if he yet lives. There were survivors, he is stronger and even more stubborn than most. He might have refused to accept being killed at Ostagar, and willed himself free of that disaster..." She whispered, a tear slipping from the shadows of her hood to caress her jawline, "_I have to believe that he could_."

It was Evelyn that took the woman's hands in hers, reflecting the sorrow and grief she shared with this woman in her bent stance, her knit eyebrows. She purposefully met the woman's gaze, and sighed. "I am sorry. The chances of anyone surviving that slaughter are... slim. Those who escaped likely fled the battle before it was overcome... and if your brother is as you say he is, I doubt he would have retreated so easily." She smiled faintly as a face rose in her mind's eye. "Stubborn people rarely back down."

The gentle gesture did not reconcile with the pessimistic words, no matter how kindly Evelyn meant them. The woman's hands trembled, and she crumbled in front of her, sagging like a puppet suspended only by threads that had finally been cut. "No, that... that cannot be..."

"Right now, the darkspawn have swarmed the Korcari Wilds. All that swampland has been overrun. If your brother had indeed escaped the battle, it... it would have been impossible to escape the horde," Evelyn continued, hating herself for the tremor hitting the woman at her words.

This time, the woman couldn't even muster a protest. Instead, she sank into a crouch, her gloved hands shuddering to cover her face before the others could see the tears she could no longer hold back. Despite her efforts to conceal her vulnerability, however, a choked sob tore from her, then another.

Her head jerked up, however, when two slim hands came to rest on her shoulders, and found an echo of her anguish in the young mage's expression. The urge to cast her off and shove her aside, to question her pity and defy the notion that anyone could suffer as she had, fizzled out in the wave of weariness and despair that had ebbed the last of her strength. Instead, she let the girl bend closer to her, to console her.

"Do not give in to this despair," she encouraged gently. At the mistrustful tightening of the woman's expression, she added, "I know that look, that moment when all has been rent from you. You said it yourself; he was all you had left. For... for taking that from you, I am truly sorry. But if I hadn't, you would have gone on into those wilds, wouldn't you? So long as there was a chance to find him?"

".._.Yes..._" the woman replied through gritted teeth.

"I couldn't let you do that. It's completely selfish of me, but I can't let anyone simply go to what I know will be their death," she sighed, fighting down the rising terror at the thought. Her voice dropped, and she spoke earnestly. "I've been without hope. I still bear the scars. And I would not be here today had someone not selfishly refused to let it continue."

Alistair flinched, his eyebrows shooting nearly into his hairline in shock. What did she mean by still 'bearing the scars'? He regarded her with a deeply troubled look, his brow wrinkling. He would have to ask her about that sometime. You know, sometime when she wasn't trying to reach out to someone else.

The woman tried to scowl, but couldn't find it in her to resist the girl's attempt to console her anymore. Instead, she gripped one of the hands on her shoulder in a gesture of acknowledgement, and rose to her feet.

"You _are_ a selfish girl..." she began, pressing her palm to her face to dab away the streaks. "But there is kindness in your selfishness. A kindness so rare as to have convinced me it existed nowhere anymore."

At the compliment, Evelyn's rosy complexion warmed to a glow. "Kindness would not be so welcomed if the world were a kind place. But I've not been kind to you; not when what I say devastates you so."

"I beg to differ," Leliana suggested, smiling sweetly. "Kindness is what helps someone to grow. And, with all due respect, miss, I have seen life spring from emptiness in your gaze just now."

"With _all due respect_, Orlesian, no one asked you," the woman glowered, before returning her attention to Evelyn. "But what she says is true. I owe you my life... in more ways than one."

Evelyn smiled. "You owe me nothing. I would, however, care to know you." She held out her hand. "I am Evelyn Amell, former Circle Mage, current Grey Warden. One half of them." She gestured towards Alistair with her head. "He is Alistair, the other half."

The woman's gaze followed to the golden boy who'd intervened in time to keep her back intact. He gave a faint wave with a halfhearted smile, which earned a raised eyebrow from her. She looked back to Evelyn, uncertain, hesitant. While Evelyn's hand hovered in an offer of introduction, the woman seemed to weigh some internal scale of conflict. Finally, she reached up and decisively pulled her hood back in full, letting the looped raven braids of her hair catch the moonlight. She grasped Evelyn's hand firmly, and shook as though striking a bargain. "I... am Rhiannon Cousland."

"Cousland?" Alistair barked in surprise, straightening. "As in, the Highever Couslands?"

She glared sharply at Alistair, and hissed, "And I already regret having said so! Perhaps you missed the point of a _hooded_ cloak, Ser, but usually, one is attempting to _disguise_ their identity!"

He fidgeted uncomfortably. "Well, it's also good for inclimate weather."

She spread her arms impatiently. "Yes, I need to protect myself from the clear skies and faint chill!"

"Please, both of you!" Evelyn interrupted, holding her hands out to each of them. She smiled towards Rhiannon. "My dear lady, I assure you, I have no intention of carrying on a parade in your honor anytime soon. Knowing your name is enough for me; whatever else that entails is important _after_ the Blight is taken care of. I offered it before, and I mean it; would you join us in our quest?"

Rhiannon had to consider this request just as carefully as she had debated giving her name to this strange duo; these Grey Wardens, whom she couldn't even fully trust. Were they traitors? Were they the heroes of legend? The thought brought a smirk to her lips; if the wisp of a girl and meathead were heroes, they had a long way to go before they were legendary. Yet she still struggled to think poorly of them, to mistrust the mageling's guileless smile.

"If you two are to take on a Blight, you shall not be alone," she agreed at last. "If there is anything that I can do, I will do it at your side," she vowed, silently adding in her mind, _for now_.

"Wonderful!" Evelyn enthused, grasping both hands around one of Rhiannon's. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that!"

"I might have an idea," Rhiannon smirked. "So, did you manage to spring from the earth fully equipped for combat, or do you have a camp nearby?"

Alistair chuckled at her remark. "I think your version is more interesting. We settled down for the night not too far from here."

"Excellent. I could use a chance to lick my wounds." She glanced around at the fallen men, then grinned faintly at the wardens. "But I do wonder at the poetic justice of possibly checking to see if these men have anything of interest on them?"

"Or anything of value?" Alistair asked, crossing his arms. "You don't see the problem in raiding a dead body?"

"Well, they're _dead_, they have no use of anything anymore," Rhiannon countered. "Besides, they'd have done the same to me had I failed to defend myself. I think it's only fair that I see if I can't be compensated for my trouble."

Horrified, Evelyn put her hand over her forehead. "Don't you think that's a little morbid?"

"Morbid, yes. Practical, as well," Rhiannon added, her mouth twisting up in disappointment at the wardens' disapproval. "I am not suggesting we strip them bare and take advantage of them. You two are the last Grey Wardens, are you not? From all I have heard, you will not be welcome long in any town; even those friendly to you would be outnumbered by those tempted by the bounty on you." She swept her arm towards the men. "They may have provisions that they clearly have no use for anymore. They may even have equipment useful to you and those traveling with you."

Uncertain, the Grey Wardens exchanged a look. She had a point, after all; abandoning whatever goods they had to either the first scavengers to happen upon them, or even the darkspawn, seemed like a waste. The prospect of profaning the dead in such a fashion, however, didn't sit well with either warden. Alistair shrugged, tempted by some of the blades he saw lying on the ground; even at a casual glance, he could see some decent craftsmanship in them. Evelyn shook her head, pouting that Alistair seemed to be leaving the decision up to her. Since when had he started deferring to her anyway? Wasn't he the senior warden?

"Very well, then, Rhiannon," Evelyn conceded with a heavy breath. "You and Leliana can search them for anything of use. I would only ask that you try to be respectful. I am ill at ease with poking through corpses, however, so if you'll excuse me, I'll be heading back to camp. Alistair, if they need help with anything heavy-"

"No way," Alistair insisted, smiling as he started to trot after her. "There might be dangerous people about. I'm not letting you walk back to camp alone."

Despite the argument on the tip of her tongue, Evelyn felt it turn to dust in the wake of his smile. She wasn't sure when, but something about that warm smile of his had gotten very disarming, and she didn't like how unsettled she felt about it. Instead, she turned from him and began striding all the more determinedly towards the flickering campfire. "Thank you, but I am not helpless, Alistair."

He halted at that, watching after her as sullenly as a puppy ordered to "_Stay!_" as his master retreated. Seeing the other two already sorting through what the bandits had on them, and seeing his chance to inspect the swords that he'd been eyeing before, he shrugged and returned to the task Evelyn had assigned him.

Not without one last glance over his shoulder, however.

_**(AN: A big thank you to Persephone Chiara for allowing me to borrow her Rhiannon Cousland for this story. To see her canon tale, check out The Edge of the Grey Enigma!)  
**_


	2. Chapter 2: Flashes of Affection

The Widening Gyre  
_Chapter Two: Flashes of Affection_

_**AN:**__ Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! I'm hoping the story continues to live up to your expectations. Also, thank you to Persephone Chiara for graciously allowing me to include her Rhiannon in my story. :)_

"So, of these treaties, which are you pursuing first?" Dousing the last dying embers of the campfire, Rhiannon straightened as she addressed Evelyn. Despite having worn her hood over her face the whole night through, she let it fall around her shoulders now. She hadn't bothered to neaten up the fraying looped braids, and the anemic paleness that showed between the flames of the campfire the night before contrasted with the worsening dark smudges beneath her eyes. Still, as Leliana had pointed out when they'd met, something vital had returned to what had once been hollow eyes.

"We debated that in Lothering for a time, actually," Evelyn admitted, delicately setting the potions she'd brewed earlier that morning back into her sack among her other meager possessions. "For a while, Alistair's suggestion that we seek out Arl Eamon seemed our best bet for support. He isn't obligated by treaty, but Alistair felt Eamon would support us wholeheartedly."

"That depends on-" Rhiannon cut herself off, swallowing _whether he feels it's politically convenient_ before it could escape. She tightened her lips, and gestured for Evelyn to continue. "...Nevermind. You were saying?"

Evelyn cocked her head faintly, and for a moment Rhiannon worried she'd seen the shadow of her thoughts. Instead, she shrugged and returned her attention to her packing. "While we recuperated in Lothering- well, as best as one can while the refugees are practically stacked neck-deep-"

"Not a difficult feat with one so short." Passing by the two, the tall Qunari that went by 'Sten' interrupted Evelyn's tale. He did not pause to gauge her reaction, however, and so missed her pink tongue darting out to point at him childishly.

"Okay, fine, revised to 'thigh high' for all you giants," Evelyn continued grumpily, "My point is, we heard rumors. Some regarding the Grey Wardens supposedly conspiring to murder the king and drag Teryn Loghain to his death, others regarding the Arl falling to illness and his knights looking for a sacred artifact that may or may not exist." Her head tipped forward, letting the crisp loose curls around her face fall to obscure her eyes. "I heard from a templar... that there were dark matters stirring at Kinloch Hold. And perhaps it is selfish of me, but I could not put it out of my mind."

"So you would return to that tower?" Rhiannon folded her arms over her chest. "I would not have suspected an apostate willing to return to their 'prison'."

"She's not an Apostate, she's a Grey Warden," Alistair interjected, setting his pack down to adjust his armor. "A subtle distinction, I know, but in this case, she left with permission. So she runs no risk of being captured upon return to the tower. If you must think of her as something other than Grey Warden, then I think 'mage' works well enough."

Rhiannon raised her eyebrow, curious to his investment in sparing Evelyn's feelings, but didn't miss the mage girl flinching at Alistair's words. "Very well then. That does not answer my question fully, however. Would you not be relieved to put that place in your past? Are the dark rumors truly enough to supersede your freedom?"

Evelyn fidgeted with the straps to her sack. "It was my _home_, Rhiannon. The only one I've ever known. Glad as I am to be rid of the shackles they placed on me, I still have those I care for there. Even if it means facing the worst of my nightmares again, I would return to protect them in a heartbeat. If they are truly in danger..." She shook her head.

Rhiannon's stony facade cracked then, her face screwing tight as Evelyn's words sunk in. Her hands gripped her elbows, her folded arms serving as a momentary buffer between herself and those around her. She turned away from the wardens then, to keep them from seeing her break. When she spoke, her voice was dark, "...I understand."

Evelyn thumbed the lip of the sack she held, staring at the faded, worn pattern. One of the few things she was able to take with her from Kinloch Hold before being torn away from that life forever. Well, clearly not forever, she thought while gripping the sack more tightly. After all, she would be back within the span of a few days, now wouldn't she?

Noticing the tightening grip on her bag, Alistair frowned at Evelyn's discomfort. She started at the warmth of his hand coming to settle on her shoulder, and looked up to meet his gaze. He smiled engagingly. "It'll be alright. Rumors are, after all, only rumors. We've seen firsthand that they can spring up around complete lies." At this, he shot a glance at Rhiannon, whose arched eyebrow was his only response. "I bet we can just get in, enforce our treaties, and leave without incident."

Evelyn shivered. "For things to go so smoothly, Greagoir would have to have completely forgotten his oath to have my forehead branded."

"Branded?" Alistair exclaimed in shock. "You mean, the Rite of Tranquility?"

"No, I mean the branding iron he kept in the mage dormitories," Evelyn responded bitterly. "Of _course_ I mean Tranquility! Did Duncan mention nothing of the circumstances around my having departed the tower?" She sulked. "It wasn't exactly on _good terms_."

Alistair's mouth twisted to one side in frustration. Duncan's letter, which arrived only a day before he had, mentioned little of Evelyn's recruitment; mainly that he'd found a promising young woman whose magic would be welcome among their ranks. He'd been vague on other details, including how he'd managed to persuade the Knight-Commander to allow a mage to leave the Circle in such a permanent fashion.

"No, he sent word in the same cryptic manner he always does- did," he amended haltingly. "And you haven't talked much about what happened," he added accusatorily.

Evelyn stiffened her posture. "I apologize for not being forthright. Shall I start with the deepest, darkest secrets of my past, or skip ahead to the part where Greagoir hates me?"

Feeling chastised, Alistair scowled. "Oh, please do skip ahead. I'm sure the rest is _fascinating_, but that's the only really relevant bit of information. You know, information that would be useful to know _before_ going into the tower that is guarded, apparently, by people that hate you?"

She stood at the viciousness in his voice, and when she faced him, his heart sank to see tears in her eyes. Listening to the exchange, Rhiannon's gaze darkened disapprovingly at Alistair's harshness towards his comrade. Evelyn's lip trembled with effort at masking her wounded feelings, before she finally broke her silence. "Fine. Short version, then. Greagoir has always hated me, I did something bad, Duncan saved me from being turned into a mindless puppet by conscripting me. Or is that still all _irrelevant_ to you?"

He'd really hurt her, hadn't he? Alistair grimaced at himself; what had provoked him to be so flippant? "Evelyn, I didn't-"

"Of course not," she interrupted, silencing him by raising her hand in a hushing gesture. "We can only hope that all goes smoothly, and if not, I guess we can just blame me and my_ irrelevant_ past."

"It's _not_ irrelevant, Evelyn, I'm just an idiot!" he growled. "I don't know _anything_ and I only have myself to blame for that. I know better than to be shocked at what you've told me."

Her glare softened, and she finally sighed. "You're not an idiot, Alistair. How could you know, if no one's told you?"

As the two wardens exchanged a faint smile of accord, Rhiannon smirked. "That is the swiftest resolution to a childish spat I've ever seen."

"I'd rather not be angry at anyone if I can help it," Evelyn shrugged. "At any rate, I suppose your question has been answered now."

"Actually, witnessing that argument has only raised more questions," Rhiannon replied, kicking dirt over the last hot coal of the campfire. "But my curiosity is sated for now. You have a complicated relationship with your home; who among us does not?"

Both Alistair and Evelyn fell into silence, though while Evelyn resumed her task at packing, Alistair's eyes darted to her thoughtfully. He seemed to remember where he was after a moment, and after excusing himself, went back to assembling his armor back into one piece- asking Leliana's help with the straps in the back, as Sten intimidated him far too much to ask for help, and Morrigan would have laughed him off.

Rhiannon did not miss the look, however. Nor did she miss the flash of affection harbored there.

-xxx-

She couldn't bring herself to tell anyone the truth about why she had decided so firmly on going to the Circle for aid first. Alistair had accepted her concern for the place she'd considered 'home' for so long, while Rhiannon had admitted as they set off from the camp site that she approved of the decision to recruit what would most likely be their most powerful allies. Of course, Morrigan had her doubts about going to the Circle.

"I wonder if you have contracted some sort of illness, to be so foolish as to set your course for this hive of ignorance and complacency," the dark witch had said to Evelyn. "Do you truly believe that the technicality of being a Grey Warden would stop them from leashing you again, especially without your Commander to protect you?"

"They wouldn't dare," Evelyn assured her. "The First Enchanter wouldn't let Greagoir break the treaty with the Grey Wardens over a petty grudge."

"Yet you remain unconvinced of this even as you insist on it," Morrigan remarked with a smirk at Evelyn's shock. " 'Tis ever the folly of man to cling to familiar spite than obey the laws of others. Do not deny it; I can see in your eyes that you are aware of this very human flaw."

"He would regret attempting anything further with me," Evelyn murmured fiercely. "I would not allow it."

While adding nothing further, Morrigan's smug expression deepened a notch. She would not have said so, but seeing the spark of resistance in the mageling's eyes had been encouraging.

But Evelyn wasn't returning solely to protect her home from fears of some darkness hanging over Kinloch Hold, nor for the practicality of obtaining mage allies for their quest against the Blight. She was not looking forward to any confrontation with the Knight Commander that had strained her capacity for coping with the very real stigma his men had against her kind, but that was not what pooled dread in her gut.

She wanted to be back with _him_. Closing her eyes as they trod the dusty path northwards, she could see his face, the soft blond hair that occasionally hung in his eyes. She would often brush the stray locks aside, tuck them behind his ear again. Not because his hair bothered her, of course; but because of the smile and warm look in his eyes at her gentle caress. Often, he would return the favor- a curl escaping her braids was not unusual, and he'd always found excuses for running his fingers through her rich black curls when he could.

She remembered his arms around her, holding her together when she fell apart, or simply enjoying the feel of her as she pressed against him. He'd rest his chin atop her head and sigh, a contentment that she saw out of him nowhere else in his life. That she brought him this peace, this refuge, had been a quiet joy of hers.

It went without saying that he was her harbor in the storm, too. Especially in that dark period in her life, when...

_CLANK!_ A bolt of pain shot through her starting at her nose. Her eyes reopened as her hands clasped over her face. "Oww!"

"Evelyn, did you even hear me?" Alistair had not only stopped in front of her, but turned away from the road to face her.

"Uhm," she grinned sheepishly. "I suppose I didn't. I'm sorry, I was a bit lost in my thoughts."

"I asked if you were still tired," he sulked. "You didn't rest very well last night, and even now, you're walking with your eyes closed."

"I was... remembering," Evelyn replied lamely. At the disappointment registering on Alistair's face, she smiled. "But don't think I do not appreciate your concern."

"It's not that, Evelyn," he sighed. "I can't shake the feeling you're not telling me something."

Caught as surely as a beast within a trap, Evelyn paled. Her gaze dropped, then she brushed past him. "You're right; I'm not. But it's not something I'm ready to talk about, either."

He didn't have to hurry to catch back up with her- his longer strides made the task much easier. "Why not? Don't you trust me?"

"With my life, Alistair, but there are some things I hold dearer than that," she replied softly.

His lips protruded in a pout. "I see," he lied. "But you know, if you ever change your mind, I can be a pretty good listener. I mean, if this is something that's bothering you, and not, not something you... _enjoy_ remembering..." As he stammered, he turned his eyes back to the road in front of him, feeling his face burn.

She answered by laughing- a light sound that danced in the air. She placed her hand at his elbow and smiled up at him. "My friend, your concern for my well-being is very touching. I know you mean well, and believe me, I can understand being curious about something I am withholding from you. I can only ask that you not take my unwillingness to speak of... of _this_... as an unwillingness to speak to _you_. I could spend hours talking with you, and feel refreshed for it."

Unfortunately, her words didn't help abate the flush now spreading to his neck and ears, and her touch seemed to make it worse. He had to do something, quick, before he started to believe her. "You'd be the first!"

"Then the world is poorer for having neglected you," she said sincerely. "You have a fine mind, Alistair, and have actually paid attention to my words when I start _bleh-bleh-blehing_-" she pantomimed a flapping mouth with her fingers and thumb, "about my theories and philosophies."

He tucked his fingers under one of the straps of his armor and ran them back and forth along the leather, not able to look at her. "You are too kind, my dear lady. Though not nearly kind enough to yourself," he added. "You don't _bleh-bleh-bleh _, you just have a lot to say."

"I disagree," Morrigan muttered, inspecting her hands idly. Alistair shot a dirty look back at her, before looking back to Evelyn.

"At any rate..." she hesitated, before continuing. "...I will tell you, in time. I don't want there to be secrets between us, and I feel rotten for hiding anything from you. You deserve better than that. I'm just not comfortable discussing it just yet."

His face tightened, the wrinkles in his brow deepening as he darted his focus to the side of the road, away from her. Watching him shut off completely to her, Evelyn pondered over her words, wondering what she did to invoke that wall of defense. She contented herself with running her thumb on the crook of his elbow before withdrawing her touch, reminding herself that he was entitled to pull away if he needed to.

"I _will_ tell you in time, Alistair," she amended. "And you are a remarkable friend for understanding that."

He stayed silent for a good while, not willing to open the current of thoughts swirling in his head. He felt himself a massive hypocrite, clinging to his own secrets, his own shadows, while still desperately wanting to pry into hers, to know everything about her, to know her past, her experiences, her life, to know her as though they'd been friends forever. _No secrets between us_, she wanted, and _his_ sat rotting in his gut, making him sick.

"Aren't the two of you just adorable?" The sweet chirping of their resident Orlesian cut through the heavy silence between them, and as both wardens gawked, she slid into place beside them with a grin.

"_Adorable_?" Alistair squawked.

"Yes, adorable!" Leliana insisted. "The way you two talk to each other, so considerate and friendly, all smiles and warm touches. Did you even notice that you matched each other's pace while chatting?"

Well, having_ that_ pointed out to them had a disastrous effect on their stride; while Alistair unconsciously took longer steps, Evelyn stumbled a bit and resumed her normal soft, padding pace. Leliana snickered at their sudden self-consciousness.

"Oh come on now!" She needled. "The two of you are absolutely precious. Especially being the last two Grey Wardens! What a special bond that is!"

"Special bond?" Rhiannon snorted derisively, turning her head to glare at Leliana. "What a disgustingly over-romanticized interpretation of the loss of their entire order here in Ferelden!"

Shocked to have her words twisted in such a dark way, Leliana paled to realize what she had, in fact, implied. As Alistair and Evelyn exchanged an uncomfortable glance, Leliana fidgeted with her fingers. "I am sorry, that was not what I meant. I only meant... the two of you have a connection to be envied."

"If the death of their comrades is what binds them, then perhaps it best to consider the bonds cut. Such speech of how 'adorable' the two are is irresponsibly unprofessional for those taking on a Blight." Rhiannon's voice dripped with bitterness. "As Grey Wardens, one would hope they take their responsibility more seriously than you would have them behave."

"I... I had not intended to imply..." Leliana stammered.

"With all due respect, Rhiannon, I cannot fault Leliana for attempting to lighten our mood," Evelyn pointed out to the sullen woman, much to the latter's chagrin. "If we start getting too dour and serious, this journey will be a lot longer."

"That you think of this as a 'journey' will be your downfall," Rhiannon replied sourly.

"And your lack of a sense of humor is yours," Alistair jabbed back at her, frowning to match her.

"Perhaps I could simply borrow some of yours, Alistair," she answered smoothly, her eyes glittering. "I'm certain I could get used to the urge to hit myself in the face, in time."

"You want to hit me, do you?" His grin took on a teasing edge. "Have I already gotten under your skin, then?"

"Like a pestilent splinter," She agreed, though the corner of her mouth was turning up now. "I could ignore the irritation, but perhaps it would be better to pluck it out."

"Oo, did you hear that, Evelyn?" Alistair turned to his companion, raising an eyebrow. "She's threatening to pluck me!"

The smile Rhiannon fought valiantly to keep from sprouting was winning the struggle. "No worries, dear, I've plucked more than a few geese in my time."

"And now I'm a goose!" Alistair exclaimed, feigning a pout.

"If you're a goose, then I'm a duck," Evelyn proclaimed. "Let's start a flock!"

Alistair started chuckling at her words, before the full meaning of what she'd just said sunk in for him. Suddenly, his mirth choked off into a violent clearing of his throat, and his face turned red. Leliana, relieved to have been bailed out of her sinking ship, grinned at his sudden awkwardness. This was all lost on the cheery Evelyn, however, who sincerely spoke out of her cheesy sense of humor, and nothing more.

"What an interesting sort of flock you would make," Rhiannon considered, deciding to let the innocuously-intended statement go without deeper examination for now. "A goose, a duckling, a froofy Orlesian swan..."

"A swan! Me!" Leliana giggled. "What an uncharacteristically kind thing for you to say!"

"I'll be mindful not to be so generous in the future," Rhiannon sighed in playful exasperation. "Perhaps I ought to revise that to preening sparrow?"

"I've always preferred Nightingale, myself," Leliana suggested.

"Must this discussion continue?" Sneering, Morrigan refused to even glance their way anymore.

"Silence _would_ be preferable to this inanity," Sten agreed from the front of their party.

"Oh, right. I forgot. We were supposed to be taking this seriously," Alistair reminded in a hushed voice. "Shh, no more jokes. We can't be caught laughing, or Ferelden is doomed."

"It might well be," Morrigan muttered grimly. "In your hands? 'Twould seem certain."

Alistair scowled deeply at the witch, before making a rather rude gesture he learned from the other boys in the Chantry during his stay. Evelyn blushed at the gesture, knowing full well what it meant- many templars carried that gesture with them to the tower, and it was _not_ a pleasant suggestion.

"I think we've filled our Doom And Gloom quota for the day, unless you want to add something, Griffon," Alistair asked of the mabari hound proudly trotting along at Evelyn's side opposite Alistair. The dog answered Alistair with a series of conversational barks that seemed to agree with Alistair.

"Aw, Puppy," Evelyn cooed, patting the mabari atop his head with a silly grin.

With an interest that she would never admit to aloud, Rhiannon watched Evelyn with the two loyal pups she kept by her side- there was the mabari, of course, and Alistair, who was only missing the collar and the tongue lolling out the side of his mouth to match the noble Griffon as they both gazed on Evelyn. Her arms went around her, hands tightening on her elbows. Quite a portrait they painted together, didn't they? A familiar feeling that practically glowed around them, one that contrasted with the winter in her mind. Even that redhead was able to share in their light, while she was relegated to... 'Doom and Gloom'.

Her head dipped forward, forcing herself to take her eyes off of them. Her elbows hurt from the grip she held them in, her arms shaking slightly from the force. Perhaps this was a mistake. She could find a way to help Ferelden without relying on these two. Or at least find some modicum of peace of mind, though she doubted that.

"...Right, Rhiannon?" Breaking into her thoughts, Alistair beamed back at her with all the brilliance of the sun, amused from his ongoing conversation with the others.

The ache of foreboding chill seemed to lift from her bones.


	3. Chapter 3: Leader

The Widening Gyre  
_Chapter Three: Leader_

_**AN:**__ Thank you again, to everyone reading! Any feedback is appreciated. And thank you again to Persephone Chiara for allowing me use of her Rhiannon Cousland (from her story, The Edge of the Grey Enigma) here. _

The canopy stretching far above them was thick, and very little sunlight was able to peek between the richly dark leaves despite it being high noon. This suited Evelyn just fine, accustomed as she was to dimly lit hallways, and Morrigan seemed slightly more at ease in the thick of the wilderness than she had in the open plains. While most wildlife was hushed in reverence, the faint songs of a few birds still echoed from the treetops, and aside from the clanking armor and heavy footfalls of the party as they made their way northward, there was the occasional rustle in the bushes around them.

To their left, a river had temporarily joined them along the path they were taking, bending west towards Lake Calenhad farther ahead. Though the forest obscured their view, the party knew that the Imperial Highway loomed to the east, likely still swarmed with refugees and travelers alike. Tempting as it was to take the road, it had been a unanimous decision that Grey Wardens with their very descriptions being passed around for a bounty should not be traveling in the open. And so, while the path was uneven beneath their feet, the party chose to take an alternate route to the Circle Tower.

"Now this is strange," Leliana remarked as she knelt beside a tree just ahead of the group. She'd kept the lead for a while, scouting slightly ahead to watch for signs of trouble.

"What have you found?" Evelyn asked, shuffling forward to meet with her, Griffon on her heels.

"Look here, do you see these markings on the side of this tree?" Leliana pointed them out to the young mage, who bent to examine them. "They look like some sort of claw marks, a dog perhaps. But look..."

Evelyn ran her fingers over the marks, which punctured deep into the trunk of the tree. The lines were jagged. Her brow furrowed. "They're too far apart. This would have to be a _huge_ animal to make markings like that..."

Griffon began sniffing at the damaged trunk, then recoiled, whimpering. Evelyn put her knuckle over her lips thoughtfully as she reached out one hand to stroke her pup's head soothingly. "I don't like this. This is incredibly unnatural."

"You are wise to be unnerved by such a sight." Coming alongside the two, Morrigan peered down at the marks with disdain. "No beast I know is large enough to make those gashes. Besides, this was not merely a sharpening of claws; that is, after all, a natural thing for many beasts. This..." she shook her head. "This appears to have been done in rage."

Silence fell over the three of them as the others came to a halt around the tree. Evelyn chewed on her lip, a strange dread mounting in her gut. When even Morrigan- a woman who grew up with a mother like Flemeth- is calling something 'unnatural', that was enough to set Evelyn's nerves tingling in alarm.

"Alright, everyone," Evelyn began tentatively, keeping her knuckle to her lips as she pondered the situation. "I suggest staying on alert. Maybe it's nothing, maybe it's just a really big animal of some kind... but I am not comfortable relaxing right now."

"Then you are not _completely_ hopeless as a Grey Warden." Sten nodded in his agreement.

"I don't think anyone's going to be letting down their guard after seeing those, Evelyn," Alistair assured her, looking a mite pale himself. He patted his hand on her shoulder. "I think you have the right idea. I trust your instincts."

She smiled up at him, a sunny thing in the dim shadowed path through the forest, her blue eyes shimmering with thanks for his support. The color returned to his face in full force, and if he planned to say anything further, it got swallowed in her gratitude.

"Leliana, I would like you to continue at the lead. Sten, keep at her side, just in case she needs some backup," Evelyn began, looking directly at each party member as she spoke. "Rhiannon, Alistair, I'd like you by me- both of you are far more skilled in battle and have faster reflexes than I do. I'll keep a spell or two ready, though. Morrigan, I-"

"You shall keep me at your back, watching for signs of trouble?" the dark witch smirked.

Evelyn straightened. "Actually, I was going to ask... those marks. Do those resemble any sort of beast you know?"

Raising an eyebrow, Morrigan considered the question posed her. "I cannot be sure, but were it not for the unusual size and depth of the marks, I would think they belonged to a wolf."

Evelyn nodded. "It's been a long while since I read through my field guide to animal tracks, but that seems familiar. I actually have a special task in mind for you, something only you can do." She smiled entreatingly. "I'd like you to take on a wolf form, and see if your senses as a wolf might tell you more than what we can tell."

"Could not your mutt sniff out such a beast just as well, without resorting to using my magic?" Morrigan asked, arms folding over her chest. She didn't seem to be dismissing the idea out of hand, however.

"Oh, Griffon could probably sniff them out easily. But you would know better than I; what would a wolf do upon seeing a strange dog in their midst?" Evelyn pointed out with a tilt of her head towards Morrigan.

A smirk curved the witch's lips. "Tear the pitiful creature to shreds."

Evelyn nodded. "But another wolf..."

"...Could also be torn apart, but I see your point." Morrigan sighed, then moved her hands to her hips. "I shall do this. At the very least, 'tis our best chance to understand what we are dealing with here _prior_ to engaging such a beast in combat."

"Thank you, Morrigan," Evelyn beamed.

As the witch began her transformation, Rhiannon sidled alongside Evelyn to watch. "So... you are already issuing orders to me?"

Startled, Evelyn jumped and looked to Rhiannon with wide eyes. "No! I mean..." She sighed. "No, I'm not trying to give orders. I just... I don't know," she admitted with an embarrassed downcast glance.

Rhiannon grinned. "I am teasing you, dear girl. I see the way the others all look to you with questions in their gaze. They expect the answers from you... I am familiar with feeling obligated to give them." At this, her eyes joined Evelyn's gaze on the dirt path.

"I don't know why they do that," Evelyn whispered to Rhiannon, grateful that she was reaching out. "I'm no leader. I have less experience than any of them!"

Rhiannon chuckled at the girl's insecurity. "It's because you use your head, my dear, but also listen with your heart. You are no fool. In your own words, you merely lack the experience."

Evelyn regarded Rhiannon with fake suspicion. "Who are you, and what have you done with the gloomy Rhiannon who grouses about the futility of sentimentality?"

"You would rather I honestly tell you how I fear your soft heart will get us killed?" The warmth was banished from her suddenly stony face. "I was only relating as to why the others look to you for guidance, not suggesting that you are the best choice for leader. But you are one of the only two Grey Wardens, and this quest to end the Blight falls to _you_. Given that our only other choice for guidance defers to _you_, it is the lesser of two doomed paths."

Wounded far more than she wanted to admit to, Evelyn swallowed a surprised gasp, suppressing it to a small hiccup in her chest. She abruptly turned from Rhiannon to stride away from the tree. When she spoke, her voice trembled. "Think poorly of me all you like. You would not be the first, nor will you be the last."

Rhiannon's eyes darkened, though whether with anger or remorse, it was not clear. She refused to let that be the last word. "You react like a scolded child! Come now, where is that determination you showed me last night?" She caught Evelyn's arm and forced her to face her. "You have a spine in there, girl, use it!" She leaned closer to hiss, "If I condemn you for your naiveté, then prove me wrong!"

"Hey now, what's going on here?" Alistair interrupted, moving to break Rhiannon's hold on Evelyn's arm and sending a baleful glance her way. He'd seen the vulnerable look on Evelyn's face when she'd turned from Rhiannon, and didn't like the flare of temper between them one bit. "Do you have a problem, here?"

Violet eyes flashing dangerously, Rhiannon forced her indignation back down. "No, I have no problem." Her tone sharpened to a gleaming blade's edge. "I was only following our dear leader's _orders_, and staying at her _side_. Perhaps you should do the same, and _mind your own business_."

"When you assault our leader, it becomes my business!" He snarled, edging further between the two young ladies.

"Alistair, _enough_!" Evelyn cried, putting herself back in front of him, facing him. "She has done nothing wrong! She was only reminding me of my duty..." She hesitated, her eyes falling from his face to his chest. "As a Grey Warden... and apparently as your leader. She is right..." She looked to Rhiannon, restating her affirmation, "You are right. I am sorry."

It was a struggle to keep the smirk off her face, but Rhiannon miraculously succeeded. Instead, she put her triumph in a faint sway of her hip, shifting weight. "Keep that up, and I might just change my opinion of you, dear girl."

Alistair's expression tore in twain between confusion and frustration. He could not understand the exchange between these two women; he only knew that he'd seen Evelyn upset, and had to intervene. Because Evelyn being hurt was not acceptable, and even though he well knew her ability to defend herself, he'd seen her open heart and how easily it could be wounded. Yet she was defending this strange, temperamental woman.

Having been enveloped in the form of a wolf since the argument had started, Morrigan had paid them little heed. Let the children have their spat; she had a job to do. The world transformed with her, or so it seemed to; the darkness melted away, minute details filled her vision, and the faint rustling of leaves that she was only peripherally aware of before was clear as a whistle in silence. Even more, a multitude of scents flooded her, changing the colors of the world, filling it with shapes and creatures that had long passed by.

Sorting through the barrage of information, she was able to pick out individual creatures and identify them, letting her wolf mind do the identifying. Eventually, sniffing along the ground, she came to the trunk of the tree, to the gashes on it. She recoiled with a whimper; not only did the animal instincts she borrowed for this sense something wrong, but so close to it, the witch under the wolf's skin felt the radiation of something far more sinister.

She barked at the companions, who seemed to be settling out of their dispute for now, unable to speak her thoughts in this form. She'd found the scent; she would begin her search. With Evelyn's nod, she started off the thin path they were on, heading into the forest proper.

"Now where's she off to?" Alistair wondered.

"She's going to see what we're dealing with," Evelyn replied, giving him a slight nudge forward. "Meanwhile, we're going to keep traveling, and let her do what I asked her to. Also, again, I must reiterate to everyone- stay on guard." She didn't want to call attention to the way even Morrigan had pulled away from the tree in terror.

"Don't have to tell me twice," Alistair agreed. Panning his gaze at the forest around him, he pulled his sword from its sheath to keep at the ready.

"I believe she already did," Rhiannon pointed out, resting her hand on the hilt of her dagger.

"Shut up." Alistair's command wasn't harsh, however.

For a while, the party traveled on, this time without casual conversation lightening the mood. Instead, shadows hung over them, following them. Every faint movement in the wilderness set them on edge. Once or twice, Evelyn's hands crackled with the electricity of a spell after being spooked by the snap of a twig under a certain Grey Warden's armored boot. It wasn't long before even Rhiannon's blades were out, ready to lash at the first sign of danger.

A rapid crashing through the brush froze everyone in their tracks, each member looking to the source- a wolf bounding towards them at panicked speed, a gash along its trunk. Only a few paces behind, several other wolves snapped and growled at her.

"Morrigan!" Evelyn cried. "Turn back to human! I'll cover you!"

Uncertain, the witch began her return to human form, her ability to run deteriorating every second. Just as one wolf got near enough to encircle her ankle with its teeth, however, a precise bolt of lightning streamed across the brush and sent the attacking wolf reeling with a whine. As Morrigan completed her transformation, more wolves fell- their paws caught by frost and sealing to the ground.

"Do you need healing?" Evelyn demanded of Morrigan as she rejoined their ranks. The gash that had been on the wolf had vanished, but Evelyn knew better than to assume the injury was not still present in some other form.

"I am fit to fight," Morrigan replied, wincing at the pain in her side, flames already encircling her fingers.

The pack recovered from Evelyn's magical interference, but now circled the group appraisingly. Their target had shifted, and had her own pack to defend her. Leliana trained her bow on the wolf nearest the party, hesitating to unleash it on an innocent creature, and Sten gripped the greatsword he'd been given to use cautiously. Fighting enemies on the battlefield was one thing, after all. Wolves protecting their territory was another.

Suddenly, one of the wolves tilted its head back and howled to the canopy. Two others joined in the haunting song, sending shivers through the party. Evelyn, who had been preparing another frost spell to cover their retreat, let the air around her hands warm again in her shock.

"Do not let their appearance deceive you!" Morrigan hissed cruelly, anger contorting her features. "They are not friendly... and they are calling for help."

"Help?" Alistair swallowed nervously.

His answer came from the woods beyond their scope of vision. The howl that replied to the pack before them was cold and hateful, large and echoing off the trees with a vengeance. The wolves seemed to regard the party with disdain, with a smugness that might not be so undue. This time, the sound of approaching steps was thicker, deeper, had more impact on the ground as the beast moved. A shadow filled the darkness between trees, and from the center glowed two fiery eyes, red and full of malice. Emerging into a patch of light, the full imposing mass of the creature bristled with rage.

A wave of dread consumed Evelyn. This was no wolf. The size of a small horse, this creature had been forced larger than it was meant to be. The pelt had torn from sudden expansion, and in the torn flesh, the monster had patched itself with ash and dirt. The snout had gotten longer, allowing room for the sharpened teeth that had grown too numerous to contain otherwise. Saliva dribbled out of the open, panting mouth, frothing with madness. The thin legs ended in enormous paws with claws the size of Rhiannon's daggers- and three times as thick.

"Holy Maker-" Leliana trembled in terror, turning white.

"What _is_ that thing!?" Alistair cried, fear numbing his limbs. "And why is it so big?"

"A demon," Evelyn murmured in soft horror. "An abomination. That's why-"

Whatever else she had to say on the subject was drowned out by a world-shattering howl from the creature, one that shook the trees and rumbled the very ground beneath their feet. The pack that followed it answered, joining in, agreeing that these creatures must die. The monster began trotting closer, grinning cruelly as it sniffed out its prey.

Griffon, who had flattened to the ground at the sight of the large beast, saw the predatory intent spread to the pack. He barked himself out of his own fear, warning them not to come any closer to _his_ pack, or he would tear their throats out. The wolves refused to heed his warning, however, and advanced.

"Leliana, shoot _now_!" Evelyn pointed at Leliana's target. "Sten, take on the abomination, keep him back while we take on the others! Alistair-_AAAH!_"

Before she could finish issuing orders, one of the wolves leapt for her, tackling her off her feet. Leliana's arrow penetrated the skull of the wolf she'd been targeting, stopping it from joining the other. Griffon snarled, wrapped his jaws around the neck of the wolf attacking his master, and jerked rapidly back and forth until its spine snapped.

"Evelyn!" At once, Alistair was between her and the other advancing wolves. One, two, three... he counted five of them, other than the monster looming ever closer. His eyes narrowed, and he vowed that not a one would get close enough to try _that_ trick again. "Are you hurt?"

Staggering to her feet, freed from the weight of that wolf, she put her hand over her throat. Teeth had grazed the tender flesh there, running red streaks that jutted forward. Stinging, but not deadly. "I'm fine. I need you to focus on the abomination, too- if it tries any sort of magic, I'll need you to dampen it."

"Magic?" He gulped. "You really think it can work magic as a wolf?"

Recalling an incident with a cat that had suffered a similar possession back in the tower, Evelyn grimaced. "_Lethal_ magic. It might also try-"

"_**CLEVER LITTLE MAGELING,**_" the twisted creature growled. "_**GIVING AWAY MY SECRETS! YOU ARE NO STRANGER TO THOSE OF THE FADE, ARE YOU?**_"

Evelyn yelped, disappearing partly behind the big protective shield that was Alistair. "You _talk_?" She asked incredulously.

She only got a malicious chuckle in response. Another wolf charged Leliana, and took three arrows to its chest, hind leg, and eye before it finally fell a mere two feet from her. Morrigan wasted no time in roasting the wolf that had given her the gash before, smirking as the blaze rose with the pained shriek. The monster itself was momentarily distracted as a greatsword embedded in its side. It paused to regard the mortal struggling to rend it in two. With a dismissive bat of its paw, it sent Sten hurtling into a tree.

Griffon caught sight of another wolf coming after his master again, and bowed low to receive it. When the wolf had gotten close enough, he bellowed a war cry unique to the mabari, disorienting the poor creature. With its legs in a tangle, Griffon tackled it, making good on his promise to tear their throats out; blood spilled into his mouth, much to his satisfaction.

Having taken to the shadows of the dimly-lit forest the moment the wolves had called for their leader, Rhiannon found her opportunity to strike when the abomination locked its gaze on Evelyn. She leapt from cover with blades drawn, and managed to bite them deep into the creature's shoulder and neck. Keeping her grip on them and kicking her boots into the broken pelt to maintain her position, she forced the one in its neck further down in a vain attempt to slit its throat open.

Vain, because the beast shook her off as any normal wolf might shake water off its fur. She tumbled to the ground, only able to keep one of her daggers. Cursing herself for failing, she rolled to her feet again. Leliana was able to get another arrow into the hide of the abomination, pulling its attention from Rhiannon.

"Here, foul creature!" Leliana commanded. "I will be your prey- if you can catch me!"

"_**YOU ARE MEAGER BAIT, MORTAL, BUT YOU SHALL FEED MY CHILDREN**_," the monster drawled, growling its command to the remaining two wolves to pursue the light-footed redhead as she retreated a few paces. Seeing her taunt passed unto the other wolves, she turned and bolted, hoping to give the others a chance to take down the larger creature. She could buy them some time...

With speed surprising for its size, the abomination charged towards Alistair and Evelyn. Alistair bellowed in alarm, drawing up his shield and stabbing at the damage already done to the creature's throat- maybe he could finish what Rhiannon had started- but to no avail. The jaws clamped on his shoulder, a sudden agony that forced his swordarm to release his weapon, and threw him aside.

"_**YOU ARE MUCH MORE SUITABLE PREY FOR MY LIKING, MAGELING!**_" It cried, pushing its paw into her chest and forcing her to the ground. "_**I HAVE BEEN SEEKING A NEW HOST! YOU WILL DO NICELY...**_"

The hot breath of the wolf stung Evelyn's eyes, the frothing drool mingling with the blood from the creature's injuries to drip on her face. Her blurry vision was filled with the red hot fury of the monster's gaze, and as her lungs froze in fear, she couldn't move.

"_NO!_" Alistair screamed, forcing himself on his feet again. Pain shot through every nerve, blood soaking his armor, yet the sight of Evelyn staring into the face of death deadened his senses. Roaring, he mounted his shield into position and lunged at the beast with all the force he could muster. Connecting with the beast's head, he heard a sickening crunch of bones shattering- was it his arm or the monster's face? He couldn't tell at first.

But the force was enough to knock the beast away from Evelyn. Before it could react, Alistair screamed in fury and bashed his shield against its jaw again, and again, and again. New pain clenched his whole body, exhaustion mixing with the constant impact against what felt like stone, yet he kept at this beast.

Regaining her senses, Evelyn saw Alistair standing over her. He was the picture of rage, blood pouring from the gored shoulder, hurling himself into every attack on the beast. And he was protecting her- more than he knew! She threw the remnants of dizziness off with a shake of her head, and found a spark of anger to ignite her courage.

"Alistair, fall back! _NOW!_" Evelyn ordered. Alistair didn't seem to hear her at first, landing another crushing blow of his shield. Taking in a deep breath, Evelyn shouted piercingly, "_I SAID FALL BACK, SOLDIER_!"

That did it. Alistair whirled to catch sight of her, at the flames rolling up over her sleeves and climbing to her shoulders, at the darkening look in her eyes. Ice surged to fill the void of rage in him, and he stumbled out of her way. The momentary reprieve from the assault gave the beast a chance to refocus on his target.

Determined not to let the opportunity pass, it opened its jaws wide, preparing to break the mage and mend her body once it had taken her. Instead, fire poured down its throat, filling its belly, incinerating it from the inside out. The abomination shrieked and howled, claws digging into the earth as it seized in torment, writhing. Yet Evelyn's fire was unrelenting, pouring out of her to scorch the beast's tattered fur and blanch its eyes.

"To the Void with you!" Evelyn shouted, releasing her spell at last. Drained, she fell to her knees, the strain of conjuring such powerful mana leaving her empty, cold, exhausted. Alistair knelt by her, transfixed by the sight of the dying abomination as the fire grew higher. It finally collapsed, unable to stand on its own merit.

"Alistair, shield up..." Evelyn said weakly, even as she came to settle against his shoulder- despite his cringing at the gesture. "The abomination...when its weakened and cannot hold its host anymore..."

He set his shield between them and the creature, grim-faced. "Right, I remember."

The demon behind the possession finally lost its tenuous hold on the physical body, and finally, an eruption of power burst from the charred body, hurling fire and burnt flesh in every direction. Behind Alistair's trusty shield, neither he nor Evelyn felt the blast, listening as the bits of flesh dinged off the metal.

Rhiannon had meant to do more, to stop the beast, but had been awed first by Alistair's display of rage, then Evelyn's fireworks. She wasn't even sure that she could stand if her shoulder had been hurt as badly as Alistair's had, much less attack such a monstrous beast so fervently. Yet, seeing the look on his face, the anger, the desperation, she understood. She must have looked much the same when they'd come for her mother.

Morrigan, who'd followed after the wolves that pursued Leliana, returned with a limping Orlesian at her side. Upon sight of the scene before them, Morrigan put her finger to her mouth, and Leliana stared in conflicted delight; the two Grey Wardens were, as far as she could see, clinging to one another in the aftermath of a horrific battle. Why look; Alistair's arm had gone around her waist, despite the blood still leaking from the injury to his shoulder.

"You're hurt..." Evelyn murmured at the sight of Alistair's wounds. Her brow furrowed, and she struggled upright again, placing her hands over the bite marks.

"No, you don't have t-" His protest ended in a moan of relief, as healing magic spread warmth through him, cooling the fevered pain with a gentle touch guiding it. The punctures sealed and strength returned to him. Without giving it much thought, the arm he had around her tightened its grip, wanting to draw this precious girl nearer.

"There... it might still hurt for a little while, but it should be fine now." Smiling at him, Alistair wondered how such a sweet face could shift between the kindness she showed him now and the anger at the demon before. The difference could be no less stark than night and day.

"Thank you," he said softly, still holding the shield in place- a momentary barrier between the rest of time and this moment, this one moment with her. He'd come close to losing her, hadn't he? The thought wrenched his gut- he had to banish it before he gripped her any tighter. He might just break the poor girl.

She beamed at him, a rosiness flushing her face that seemed to paralyze him. A delicate touch of fingertips guided the shield out of place, and a rather smug Rhiannon peered down at them. "Oh dear, are we interrupting?"

Alistair stared at her blankly, before feeling a blush spread over his face. "Interrupting what, exactly? She was just healing me. You might have noticed, I got pretty badly hurt."

"I noticed," Rhiannon assured him with a glint in her eye. "I also saw you protecting the Lady Fair, Ser Knight."

He scowled as he stood. "I was never officially knighted, and I have _no_ idea what you're talking about, so shut up."

"Ooo, defensive, are we?" Rhiannon teased, grinning.

"Rhiannon, go check on Sten," Evelyn ordered, standing and dusting off the skirt of her robe. Seeing the challenging look in the woman's eyes, she added, "Now."

Rhiannon shrugged, not really willing to let go of the scrap of entertainment she dredged from flustering the poor lad, but something told her that Evelyn wasn't going to take much argument. As she headed over to where Sten was retrieving his greatsword from where it had landed before, she wondered what had changed in the girl to convince her not to challenge an order.

"Leliana, are you in need of healing?" Evelyn's gaze fell to the bloodied boot Leliana limped on. "...Okay, stupid question. Let me see..."

"Oh no, I could not possibly..." Leliana couldn't finish disagreeing with Evelyn, who sat Leliana down on a nearby log and began examining the wound. "I assure you, I will be fine, it is not that bad..."

"Shh," Evelyn assured her, closing her eyes and focusing on her magic. Once again, healing flowed from her and into her patient, who cooed as the pain lifted. "I would hate for you to lose that graceful step of yours, my friend."

"You are very sweet," Leliana purred contentedly, smiling. "I can see why Alistair moaned the way he did at your touch."

The fact that both wardens turned scarlet at Leliana's insinuations made her break into a high giggle. She didn't even mind that Evelyn lost her concentration on healing; a slight ache in her calf was worth seeing the reaction on their faces.

Still red, Evelyn swatted Leliana's knee in annoyance. "You're so mean! It's not like that!"

"Of course not," Leliana agreed, still giggling. "I will simply keep my thoughts to myself until later."

"That will be a challenge," Morrigan sighed. "Or, 'twould be, were there thoughts to be shared."

"Are you not the sweetest thing ever?" Leliana asked of Morrigan, tilting her head to look up at the woman.

As the two dissolved into snarking one another, Evelyn dared glance back at her friend, her fellow Grey Warden. He'd turned away from them and was gathering his sword, but as he stood straight again, she saw the telltale redness burning at his neck and ears. Was he truly so affected by Leliana's teasing?

And why did she feel a faint flutter in her chest to think so?


	4. Chapter 4: Dreams

The Widening Gyre  
_Chapter Four: Dreams_

_**AN:**__ Oh my goodness, thank you all for reading! I would still love any feedback, so don't be shy! Thanks again to Persephone Chiara, for brainstorming with me and lending use of her Rhiannon from her story, The Edge of the Grey Enigma! _

"What I don't understand is, how in all of Thedas did a _wolf_ end up getting possessed?" Alistair gestured with his spoon while talking around a mouthful of stew. "I thought only people were susceptible to that."

"Odd, I thought it was _mages_ who were at risk for possession," Leliana asked, stirring the stew in her bowl thoughtfully. Eventually she might take a bite. Maybe.

Evelyn shook her head. "No, well, sort of. Mages are _most_ likely to be possessed, because of our connection to the Fade. Demons are drawn to our power and our awareness. But anybody can be possessed, given sufficient energy. But an animal is much more rare."

"_Anyone_ can be possessed?" Leliana repeated in shock, blinking rapidly. "You mean to say, at any time, any one of us could...?"

Evelyn chuckled softly. "No, no, that's not what I'm saying at all. The risk is minimal for most. Extreme duress is usually a requirement for someone who is not gifted with magic to be possessed. Hence why it's even more unusual for an animal."

Alistair nodded and swallowed his mouthful. "We, as templars, are trained to look for signs of possession. It can be really subtle, but there are usually some pretty strong indicators when someone has a demon riding them." He cracked a grin. "When they start screaming about feeding on all of humanity and taking over the world, that's usually our best indication."

Leliana fidgeted, somewhat mollified. "So, you would know, then? If someone were possessed?"

"I don't know, maybe," Alistair dodged answering fully by shoving more stew into his mouth. "I mean probably, I've had the same training as any other templar."

"Sounds very useful," Rhiannon commented, leaning back on the palms of her hands. "I mean, outside of hunting down mages and identifying demons, they taught you how to use a sword, right?"

"That, too," he sighed, and cast an awkward glance to Evelyn. "Outside of the Chantry rules and religious studies, they actually provide a decent education. I wasn't much fond of every lesson they forced on us, but the structure, the discipline they taught us... it was something not every child in Ferelden is so fortunate to get."

Rhiannon pondered his words. "No, you're right. There are many ignorant children in the world- not by their own volition, mind you, but the lack of education and resources available to them. We have... had... several libraries in Highever open to the public, because an educated people are a proud people." She smiled to Alistair. "So yes, I can see where your pride comes from."

Evelyn set her bowl by the fire, frowning. "But that was not a normal possession, either," she said, returning to the subject matter at hand. "Most possessions are done from the Fade, through a connection with the host. But this was a demon that had taken over the physical body of the wolf."

"What's the difference?" Rhiannon asked.

"The difference is that a demon had to have come through into _our_ world, first." Evelyn twisted her finger around a curl of her hair anxiously. "How? That only happens if a mage deliberately does so, or if the Veil were already thinned. I sensed no other magic nearby..."

Alistair looked to her in alarm. "So you're worried about the Veil?"

She stared at the fire, her eyebrows knitting together. "We heard that dark things are going on at Kinloch Hold, Alistair. That many templars were being called in... reinforcements. By coincidence, we run into an abomination as we get closer to the tower? I don't want to think that way, but..."

The group fell silent, the implications of the conversation deeply unpleasant. They were only halfway through their journey north, a bit further along now, and while the trees had finally thinned out again, night had fallen. The party was sick of traveling in darkness, and had settled down to camp for the evening. By their maps, there was only a day or two of journey left before they would arrive, and if this was a sign of what was to come...

"We'll get through this," Alistair finally said, smiling.

"That's a lot easier to say when it isn't your home in danger," Rhiannon snapped at him, sitting upright again. "Spare the poor girl your empty reassurances, you'll only make it hurt worse if you're wrong."

"Because telling her, 'Everything will go wrong and hurt forever' is so much better?" Alistair demanded, pouting.

"_Excuse me_." Standing so rapidly her skirt tipped the edge of her bowl, Evelyn hurried away from the others. She didn't return to her tent, either, but slipped to the very edge of the campfire's light. The gold of her robes shimmered warmly, the light flickering across her slim form as she leaned against a tree.

"Maker's Breath," Alistair muttered, annoyed more at himself for letting Rhiannon rile him than at the woman herself. He set his bowl aside, glared at Rhiannon, and went after Evelyn.

"Evelyn, I... I'm sorry, I-"

"Just leave me alone." She couldn't even look at him. "Please. It's not you, not really. But I can't take you trying to reassure me when... when so much has already gone wrong."

She faced away from the gentle caress of firelight, gazing into the blackness beyond their camp, her face in shadow. Standing beside her, he felt a chasm between them. How keenly it contrasted with her normal warmth! She'd reached out to him, time and again, and when he'd been consumed by despair, she'd managed to turn him back towards his path again. He reached out now, and put his hand on her shoulder, eliciting a flinch from her.

"Evelyn, I... don't expect things to go smoothly," he started cautiously. "In fact, I imagine it will be very difficult. For you, far more than any of us. I can't even imagine what you must have gone through in that tower. I've heard the rumors, of course. One of the reasons I'm glad I never took my vows, actually."

In the beat of silence while he waited for her reaction, she said nothing, didn't even move. So he continued, "And now, all of this. I want to tell you it will be okay, that all will be well, but even I'm not stupid enough to believe that. But..." He moved further into her field of vision, rather than force her to look at him. He spoke warmly. "No matter what we face, I'll be there with you. I'll try to make things easier for you, if I can. I'll protect you in any way that I can. You have my word."

Her expression was still obscured by shadows, so he had no way to gauge if she was taking him seriously or not. But she could see him; the light shone on his features, illuminating the soft brown eyes that searched for hers in darkness he couldn't quite make out. He smiled uneasily, and just when he prepared to apologize for bothering her when she'd already asked him to leave, she pressed her face into his chest, resting her hand beside her head. Just as he startled upright at the contact, she shuddered with suppressed tears.

"I don't deserve you," she murmured brokenly into his chest, her fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt as the admission pained her. "I have already lost so much. You cannot promise me your protection, I refuse!"

Flabbergasted, Alistair struggled to find the part of his brain where the words were. Eventually, his arms went around her, tentatively holding her to him- though it seemed unnecessary, the way she leaned into him so openly. "You... You can't _refuse_ my protection, Evelyn! I'm _offering_ it to you, I mean...what?"

"I can't!" She cried, and the word ended in a choke as her sorrow got the better of her. "I can't let you promise me that, because if I lose you too, you'll be a liar and I'll be alone!"

He was speechless, struck dumb not only by her sincerity of emotion but the familiarity he felt with exactly how she felt. And it hit him in full force then, as he looked down at her trembling head as she fought to keep her tears away, just how precious she'd become to him. _Alone_. That was exactly why he'd been so happy with the Grey Wardens, with Duncan stepping in like the father he'd never known. He'd been out of place at home- if that could have ever been called a home- he'd been out of place at the Chantry, always alone. The Grey Wardens, they welcomed him with open arms. He hadn't been alone with them.

But then they, too, had been torn from him. Duncan slain on the battlefield before he had the chance to say goodbye, to share how grateful he'd always be to the man. And when he found himself feeling _alone_ again, Evelyn was there, reaching her hand out to him, smiling, reassuring, consoling. He wasn't alone.

"No," he said at long last, his hand going into the mess of curls atop her head as he pulled her closer. "I may be an idiot, but I'm not a liar. I would never leave you alone in this world. I would fight the Maker Himself to keep that promise."

She buried herself in him then, letting out a sob that couldn't be contained anymore, but letting it trickle into a laugh. "I don't think _that_ will be necessary, Alistair... but thank you." She pulled back, her eyes shining with a barest glitter of starlight above. "I'm so sorry for all this. I normally hold together better than this, I swear. I'm just-"

"You do _not_ need to apologize for needing someone to cry on," Alistair insisted firmly. He clasped the hand at his chest, almost terrified at his reaction if he'd let it remain there. "How many times have you let me go on about Duncan, or the Grey Wardens? How many times did you listen to me carry on about men you never met, about things I _know_ are irrelevant to you? You've been more patient than I deserve." He beamed. "I'm happy to reciprocate when you need a little help. That's what friends do."

"You mean much more to me than just my friend, Alistair," she smiled, one last teardrop spilling from her eye. "When I think of returning to the tower, I'm scared. I admit it. But knowing you'll be there, I feel at ease again. You're the closest thing I have to family right now, and I feel blessed for it."

His breath caught in his throat at this admission from her, his chest clenching in sweet pain. He still knew next to nothing about this woman, yet he felt he'd known her for years. She opened to him like a flower greeting the sun, held nothing back (well, not _nothing_). And now she was calling him her _family_.

"I...had no idea you felt that way..." he stammered out, grinning like the fool he knew he must truly be. "I mean, I-I suppose that makes sense, I feel the same way, I think. No, I _know_."

She giggled at his nervousness. "I'm glad, then." She turned her hand in his to grasp it in return, and smiled endearingly. "Then it's agreed. I think we make a good family, Alistair."

"Or should you say, 'flock'?" Both wardens jumped at the sudden appearance of a certain redheaded lay sister, who grinned at the sight of them.

"Leliana, were you eavesdropping!?" Evelyn demanded, her face warming as she withdrew from Alistair's embrace at last. "That is an incredibly uncomfortable and rude thing to do. You _know_ I'm upset!"

"You did not seem that upset just then," Leliana teased in a singsong voice.

"That would be because Alistair was also invading my privacy. But he was at least up front about it!" Evelyn retorted, smirking.

"Ooo, invading your privacy, was he?" Leliana giggled. Alistair turned an even darker shade of pink than he already had been.

"And up front about it, no less," Rhiannon added, stepping out beside Leliana. "See, I told you they wouldn't like us spying on them."

"Yet you were all too happy to join me in doing so!" Leliana pointed out.

"Well, of course!" Rhiannon huffed. "They might have been sharing important Grey Warden secrets! What a rare opportunity that is!"

"Ah, so you've learned the most secret of our Grey Warden Secrets!" Alistair cried tremulously. "That sometimes we _want to be left alone for five minutes_!"

"To do what, exactly?" Rhiannon asked slyly.

"To..." he drew a blank there.

"To share important secrets, of course!" Evelyn interjected helpfully.

"And what secrets are those?"

"Shh! That's a secret too!" Evelyn giggled despite herself.

"So, what was that you were doing, the Grey Warden Secret-Sharing pose?" Rhiannon asked, stepping over to Alistair. "Now how did that go... ah yes, arms around here," she directed one arm around her waist, then took the other in her hand. "...and like this..."

Alistair blinked, unsure how he managed to go from being in awe of the bond he was realizing between himself and Evelyn, to another woman pulling him into another embrace. He wasn't sure, either, if he disliked it, so much as feeling self conscious.

"Well, normally, that's how we share secrets..." He twirled her out of the pose, and bowed in some form of grace. "...But you have to be a Grey Warden for that to work."

"Ah, I see," Rhiannon said, disappointed. She looked to Evelyn, tilting her head curiously. "Are you feeling better now?"

Evelyn smiled at Alistair, who answered with one of his own. "I think so, yes."

"Good," Rhiannon nodded. "Because your fool dog decided to help himself to the rest of the stew in your absence."

"What? _Griffon!_" Evelyn bounded over to the campfire, where indeed, the mabari was finishing lapping up what remained of that stew Alistair had been so kind as to cook for them.

Watching Evelyn pull the dog away from his stew, Alistair felt a very different smile creep onto his face. This smile was unguarded, lit from a source within him he hadn't thought could ever be lit, not like this. The smile came easily; it wasn't forced or held back or worn in self-defense.

He was her _family_.

-xxx-

"Don't you _dare_ touch him!" Evelyn cried furiously, beating her fists on the templar's chestplate. "Haven't you monsters hurt him enough!?"

They laughed in her face, lifting him by the hair until he dangled limply in front of her, his eyes clenched shut in pain. Bruises marked all over his skin, blood trickled from his mouth, his clothes were torn.

"You _horrid, wretched_ men!" She screamed. "I won't let you get away with this!"

"And what can _you_ do about it, _mage_?" One sneered, so close she could smell the liquor on his breath. The smell filled her with terror.

"I... I!" She stammered uselessly, welling with anger and fear all at once.

"Will you run to your First Enchanter and bark like the good little pet you are?" The other laughed. "Perhaps we should get you a proper collar!"

"If you don't stop..." she warned, backing away, terror starting to rob her legs of all strength.

"What? What possible threat can _you_ possibly follow through on?"

Suddenly, the shift came. She'd never known it in her life, but here, here she could do it, she could pull all the malice she would never have admitted she bore the templars- _all_ templars!- and let it embolden her. She spat her hatred at them, "..._**I'LL KILL YOU!**_"

Instead of recoiling in fear, however, they tossed him aside, letting him fall brokenly against the wall. Lifelessly. She'd seen him bad before, but this time they'd really done it, they'd crossed that line.

"You _bastards_!" She shrieked, rushing at them.

But they grabbed her wrists, caught her, pinned her, put their hands on her. They laughed and pulled back the corners of her robes, and the anger she'd called to her hands fizzled out. They'd done this to her before, many times, but this was the only time it had actually happened.

She kicked and screamed and yelled, but her rescuer lay unconscious on the floor, because she'd failed to protect him. And now she was alone, but they were there. She turned her head away, saw the candle on the table. The candle that burned forever, if she could just pretend it was more important.

"Evelyn!"

The voice cut through the room, echoing against the stone walls. The men stopped, staring around in confusion. Evelyn screamed again, desperate to hear that warm, familiar voice call her name again. She did not go unanswered.

"_Evelyn!_" He cried again, this time closer, his hand on her shoulder, pulling her up and away from those men, away from _him_, away from the room.

"No! Let me go! I can't-!" She sobbed, writhed, knocked the hand away from her shoulder. She searched for the candle, but it was gone, replaced with the cold hard dirt and arguably softer bedroll.

"Evelyn, it's alright!" Alistair pleaded, worry etched in his face as he watched her. "It was a dream! Just a dream!"

She stared at him, not knowing him for a long moment. Then, she pulled her blanket over her chest and threw herself at the other side of the tent, still watching him. "No..."

Hurt, he knelt carefully, not wanting to spook her any further. "It's alright. I'm here now. Whatever it was, it can't hurt you anymore."

She took in a deep breath to calm her heart, but it didn't work. She tried again, and this time gained some ground against herself. She closed her eyes and saw the candle. She trembled.

"Was it the archdemon?" He asked, edging closer. "I'm so sorry. I wish your sleep didn't have to be plagued by that."

"No... it wasn't..." she replied in a monotone. "But don't ask. Please, just... just _don't ask_."

Dozens of questions wrote themselves in his gaze, but per her request, he asked none of them. Instead, he sighed. "I heard you screaming. I... didn't want you to feel afraid. It's morning now, and Leliana made some frou-frou Orlesian 'trail food', or something. Not terribly travel-ready, what with it being all glazed with sauces and the like, but she insists it's good for the weary."

"I'm not very hungry," Evelyn declared listlessly.

He frowned sympathetically. "Maybe not. But I'd say give it a chance; it doesn't taste half bad, and even Sten was caught enjoying himself."

At this, even Evelyn managed a faint chuckle. "Now _that_ is unbelievable."

"I know, right? But then Leliana swears she caught him picking flowers the other day." Alistair grinned to see the spark of life returning to her again.

"I saw that, too, actually," she recalled thoughtfully. "I figured he had a good reason. Like maybe the Qunari have a way of killing people with the stems of flowers."

Alistair snickered. "Now _that_ would be a sight!" He mimicked slashing a sword to and fro. "Hah! Nyaa! Waha! _Ataash Qunari_! Fear my spiny thorn, it will give you _such_ a sting!"

At this, the high giggle Alistair delighted to hear from Evelyn rang out. "You're so _disrespectful_!"

"The word, my dear, is 'mean', or maybe 'rude'," he suggested. "Who uses 'disrespectful' to scold someone, except parents?"

"I'm just an old woman wrapped in a tiny girl," she sniffed. "Now mind your manners, young man, else you shame your elders!"

He grinned. "You look very good for your age, Ma'am. Especially when you smile like that."

At this, the mirth faded in her expression, replaced with a blossoming warmth that sweetened her rosy complexion. She tugged the blanket she held against her a bit higher, fidgeting with the edge of it. After the paralyzing terror of her dreams, there was always a chill that couldn't be dispersed for hours, no matter what she tried. What was it, she wondered, that brought vitality to her now? She murmured, "Thank you."

"I'll, uh..." The softness in her voice suggested she was not only responding to his compliment, and Alistair stumbled over the thought. "I'll wait for you outside, when you're ready. For breakfast, I mean. Or whatever it is. If you want it. I'll be going now."

He backed out of her tent again, half to give her the privacy she needed, half because he didn't want to embarrass himself further like he always seemed to. Still, as the tent flap swished shut behind him, he heard her giggling to herself. _Well, that's a good start, at least_, he mused pleasantly to himself.

As Alistair disappeared, Evelyn bent forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Of_ course_ dreams like that had to start cutting back into her life again. She thought she'd been done with them years ago, but apparently her subconscious wasn't done tormenting her. No, in between nightmares of the archdemon calling to her, and the darkspawn swarming over her mind in her sleep, she had to have her return 'home' summon back _those_ dreams, too.

She closed her eyes, and could see _his_ face again. It had been badly bloodied and battered, once. Beneath her hands, the bruises melted away, the swollen flesh receded, the fever faded, and _he_ smiled at her. But then, those injuries could be healed with magic.

What had happened to _her_, on the other hand, could never be driven out by any force on Thedas. As her fingers pressed into her temples, her eyes clenched tighter, and she had to fight a wave of revulsion.

She didn't eat breakfast that morning.


	5. Chapter 5: Lake Calenhad

The Widening Gyre  
_Chapter Five: Lake Calenhad_

_**AN:**_ _A BIG thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed! I can't reply to anonymous reviews, but thank you all the same, it's brought a smile to my face! And thank you to Persephone Chiara for brainstorming with me and lending me her Rhiannon Cousland for this story. _

The salty smell of Lake Calenhad filled the air as the party began their approach through the ruins long ago abandoned by the ancient Avvars. Evelyn recalled what she read of the barbarian tribes, and gazing on the fallen columns and wreckage, she felt a pang of loss; their history was still only half-understood, even by those living in Kinloch Hold- the fortress they constructed with the aid of dwarves. Now, the stones at their feet were all that remained.

Even the Tevinter influence could be felt, as she shifted her attention to the Imperial Highway. Or at least, what remained of it. The road had fallen into such disrepair that large chunks of the structure had simply fallen away, crumbled to the ground beneath it or tumbled into the lake itself. There was little reason to repair it nowadays; after all, the less opportunities the mages had to escape the tower, the better.

Above the ruins and the trees still obscuring her view, the jutting spire of the tower cut into the night sky, sharp and ominous. The sight stirred the dread in her gut, and she resisted the urge to turn and flee. Seeing the pale, grim faces of her companions, Evelyn wondered if she wasn't the only one getting the urge.

Even the perpetually stone-faced Qunari, devoted singularly to his own strength of character and resilience, looked uncomfortable as they worked their way closer to the tower. His already greyed complexion was turning ashen with every step, and if Evelyn peered closely, she could see the tiny beading of sweat on his brow.

"How are you holding up?" Evelyn asked of Sten before she could stop herself. The sound of her worry hung in the cold air between them, and was received just as warmly. He stared down at her, calm but stern.

"I am well enough. Do not concern yourself needlessly with me," he replied stiffly.

"Funny, because when I look at you, I'm not seeing someone who's doing very well," she pointed out, not content to be rebuffed so quickly. "You're not making a fuss about it, but Sten, you look ill."

"For one so shriveled and pale, you have little room to comment on how ill others appear to be," Sten answered more snappishly than he intended.

"Perhaps not," Evelyn sighed, feeling him shove back against her attempt to address whatever it was bothering him. Suddenly, she lit on an idea, a fragment of something he'd mentioned before. "But, wasn't this where you were last with your comrades? In that battle with the darkspawn?"

If the tall man had been pale before, he might have gone sheet white at that. Now, he regarded her with a glare that could have cleaved her in two had it been a tangible weapon. "I see your memory is not as faulty as your sense of decency."

"I apologize, Sten. I did not mean to rub salt in a wound." She shook her head, mentally kicking herself for having brought the subject up so bluntly. "I only meant, this cannot be easy for you. You've already endured so much just traveling with me, and have done so unquestioningly. In fact, this is the first I've seen you hesitate even slightly."

He thought over her words, glowering. "It is my shame that you see any hesitation." He let out the air from his lungs in a drawn out expression of exasperation at himself. "Do not let my weakness inform your actions."

"It is not weakness to be pained by loss," Evelyn insisted, folding her fingers together thoughtfully. "And you lost much here. I could never fault you for being overwhelmed by your return here."

"Do not project your discomfort onto others. It will not disperse your anxiety. You are merely seeking companionship in your fear." Sten frowned even further, which Evelyn had not thought possible. "I am not afraid, so do not attempt to corral me in with your failures."

"I am not-" Evelyn stopped herself, closing her mouth on her protest. He wasn't _entirely_ wrong in suggesting that she was projecting a bit more than she meant to. "Alright, so you have a point. I'm sorry. You're _not_ me. In fact, that's a very _good_ thing, because you're so much more resolute than I am. Your strength inspires courage."

Sten fell silent again, not prepared for her to agree with him. His dealing with the humans so far had painted them a pitiable and dishonest lot, unable to come to terms with their own weaknesses. At least this _saarebas _could recognize the truth when she heard it... sometimes, anyway.

Evelyn measured his silence in steps, the other party members too absorbed in their own conversations to interrupt hers. Though, she noted with a faint smile, Alistair kept glancing back during his chat with Rhiannon, checking on her, and quickly looking away if he caught Evelyn returning his gaze. She focused on Sten again, smiling entreatingly. "Do you want to talk about what happened here?"

"No."

She sighed, "Then do you mind indulging me anyway? I've found that giving voice to your nightmares often helps make them seem much smaller than when you keep them inside."

He made several bitter strides without a single word, before closing his eyes in thought. "As you know, I was not sent here alone. Several of the Beresaad were with me as I came to seek answers about the Blight. We saw no signs of the threat we'd been sent to observe, traveling through the countryside... Until we camped by Lake Calenhad."

The more he spoke, Evelyn noted, the more his stony facade melted away. As he relived the experience, his strange eyes went distant, his voice tightened, he grew paler. "They came from everywhere. The earth beneath our feet, the air above us, our own _shadows_ harbored the darkspawn. I saw the last of the creatures cut down, too late. I fell."

Evelyn shuddered. "That sounds very familiar. I encountered them up close while we'd explored the Korcari Wilds. As you said, they burst from the ground, no warning, as though born from the darkest recesses of our mind and given form. When they poured from the forest at Ostagar that night... I still can't fathom the full scope of how _many_ there were."

"I heard the stories of Ostagar. Your kith stood their ground when others fled. No one can do more than that." Sten nodded his approval, before retreating to his memories again. "I don't know how long I lay on the battlefield among the dead, nor do I know how the farmers found me. But when I awoke, my sword was not in my hands, and I was no longer among my brothers; instead, I was surrounded by foreigners who regarded me with as much fear as they did pity."

"And that's when you attacked them?" Evelyn asked softly, resisting her instinct to put her hand to his arm consolingly.

"I did. I'd inquired after my sword, but they hadn't seen it. And in my rage, I killed them. With my bare hands." He shook his head at himself, disgusted. "I knew they didn't have the blade. They had no reason to lie to me. I struck them down in my panic."

"That's... terrible!" Evelyn breathed. She knew he'd killed eight people, including children. At the time, she'd seen only his penance, his eagerness to die for his sins. Even conceding his confusion, his anger, she couldn't conceal her shock at his actions.

"I know," he frowned with remorse. "I cannot justify what I have done. My honor is forfeit."

"This was over a sword?" Evelyn asked, trying to keep her nerves from shaking her voice.

"That sword was made for my hand alone," he explained sharply. "I know you would not understand; you are no warrior, you are only _saarebas_. But what I lost that day was not only a weapon, it was a part of myself. No warrior would cast away his weapon unless he were a coward. I could not return in such disgrace."

Two thoughts connected in her head at once, lighting up in sparks. Sorrow suddenly overwhelmed her. "You didn't kill them because of the sword... Sten, you couldn't be responsible for the darkspawn attack, _or_ what they took from you. You can always go home again, surely they would understand that your sword and your brothers in the Beresaad were lost because of the darkspawn?"

Sten sneered at her. "Even if I could return to the Arishok to bring my report to the him, I would be slain on sight. They would know me as soulless, as a deserter. That I _live_ would be proof enough of my desertion."

Evelyn's hands went over her mouth, and she had to fight tears- Sten would not appreciate tears on his behalf. "So you _couldn't_ return home. In one fell swoop, the darkspawn took everything from you... Oh Sten, I'm so sorry."

"...Thank you." He murmured softly, not entirely willing to accept her pity.

"The darkspawn rip away all we hold dear," Evelyn said, more to herself than to Sten. "I have lost my brethren as well, Sten. And before you say it is not the same, you are right- I did not know my Grey Warden brothers as well as you knew your Beresaad. But they were the first place I've felt welcomed, where I felt a higher purpose in my life." Her hands shook as she let them fall to her side.

Sten regarded her curiously, uncertain what to make of the tiny woman. It wasn't pity she was offering him; she was sharing in his grief. He hadn't thought humans, much less a _saarebas_, capable of trying to understand him or his people. They'd always reacted with fear, with loathing. His regret at killing the farmers and their children had not been only the loss of life, but his own weakness at having lost control of himself. Even only briefly, he'd turned from his teachings in the Qun, and it left a wound that still bled.

His lips tightened as the thought sank in. She'd seen that wound without him expressing it; this whole conversation had been her attempt to patch it. Clumsily, perhaps, and ignorant of what the wound truly was. But she had been right; talking about what had been gnawing away at him helped to abate the power it had over him. He kept a smile from forming.

She turned from her thoughts to look up at him. "So, you lost your weapon somewhere in this area, correct?"

He caught her meaning. "If I knew where to _look,_ it would already be in my hands," he snapped.

She beamed to him despite his sharpness of tone. "It's as good a starting place as any to begin looking for your sword. I promise you, Sten, we _will_ find it. I may not be able to help you as much as I wish I could, but I will _not_ let you be kept from your people because of the darkspawn."

"Perhaps those words are empty," he began defensively, uncomfortable with the warmth in her voice when she spoke to him. "But... thank you all the same."

"No, thank _you_, Sten, for trusting me with all that," she grinned.

"With all of what?" Cutting into the brief moment of understanding between the mage and the Qunari, Alistair had fallen back until he stood in the middle of them.

"Oh, if you want to know, you'll have to ask _him_, Alistair," Evelyn giggled. "I'm not really at liberty to say."

Alistair pouted. "I thought you said _no secrets_ between us, Evelyn! This isn't very no-secrety of you!"

"Ah, but this isn't _my_ secret. It's not even really a secret, come to think. But just like I would not ask Morrigan about what you were like as a child, you should not be asking me about Sten's past." Evelyn shrugged.

"If you want an idea of what he was like as a child, just think of him now," Rhiannon suggested teasingly over her shoulder. "Only smaller, probably louder, and whinier."

"Heeey!" Alistair protested. "I mean, you're probably right, but _heeey_!"

Evelyn laughed, engaging with her people again, breaking the connection between her and Sten in full. He didn't truly mind; he would do the same, should he find others of his kin. And, truly, it only reinforced what he already knew; she would never fully come to know him. This _saarebas_ was an unchained danger to herself and those around her, and would never submit to the Qun- he saw too much of the fire in her eyes to believe otherwise. She would always defer to the weaknesses of her kind.

But he did not doubt her sincerity when she swore she would help him.

"So, we're getting awfully close, huh?" Alistair asked as an opening to the subject. When the words hung in the air, he saw how they might otherwise be perceived, and stammered out, "I-I mean to the tower, n-not us, I mean, maybe, but I meant in proximity to the tower, the docks, I meant..."

She had to pinch her lips together to keep from laughing at his fluster. Even in the dark, his blush was clear, and she smiled reassuringly. "Yes. To _both_ meanings, my friend. I only passed by this way once in recent memory, and it was heading the other way, but this does seem familiar."

He wasn't sure he heard the rest of her sentence, beaming the way he was at her initial response. Well! That had gone better than his fumbling attempts to communicate with girls had gone in the past! And she even agreed with something he hadn't even meant to say, but hadn't he meant it anyway? He couldn't be certain anymore.

He cleared his throat, and forced the buzzing of happiness back to a manageable amount, sobering quickly. "Remember, whatever else we encounter here, I'm here with you. You aren't facing this alone."

She chuckled anxiously. "I know I'm not being subtle about being worried, but you don't have to keep reassuring me."

"Don't I?" He asked, patting her on the shoulder softly. "You're tenser than _he_ is," he gestured towards Sten. "And almost just as serious."

Her mouth twisted uncomfortably at his jab at Sten. "That would not be a bad thing, you know. This _is_ official Grey Warden business we're on, after all."

"Yes, yes," he agreed, disappointed that she hadn't taken the bait on his joking. "We're also here because you want to be here for the people you left behind when you were recruited, though. I mean, Official Grey Warden Business could have taken us anywhere, after all. You said yourself we're going here because it's personal for you."

"Alistair, listen." She paused, letting him actually listen to their environment. "Do you hear that?"

"...The sound of my insensitivity?" He guessed, knowing he might have crossed a line before.

"No, _listen_," she asked again.

He did. Outside of the footfalls of their companions, there wasn't much to listen to. The wind occasionally rustled the grass that had grown around the ruins, and in the distance, the sound of water rippling around the wood of docks and against stone babbled. "...I don't hear anything," he admitted at last.

"That's precisely it. We can't hear _anything_. When I was at the tower, I still heard the birds singing, the animals chirping and growling at each other. As I left with Duncan, I still heard people talking in the Inn. But this..." she made a sweep with her hand. "It's not about what you hear, it's what's absent. And even were it not for that, you can feel it, too. I _know_ you can."

He frowned. "Something isn't right here."

"Precisely. I don't know how clear it is for you... but especially with that... creature... we faced on the way here..." She shivered. "Something has gone very wrong. The Veil is thinner the closer we get to Lake Calenhad. I feel the oppressive presence of the Fade... and worse."

"All the way out here?" he asked in surprise, though he felt her words ring true in the back of his mind. He'd been unsettled by the same feeling. "You must be rather sensitive to it."

"I've always been highly aware of the Fade, Alistair. Even when I'm there, I've had full presence of mind. Actually, one of my mentors trained me in the art of Spirit Healing because of this sensitivity," Evelyn sighed sadly. "I point all this out, not because I knew all of this when I heard the rumors, but because the closer we get to Kinloch Hold, the more I know that I was right to come here first. Something very, very _bad_ has happened here, and time is of the essence."

He nodded faintly, staring up at the spire. "I think we're in agreement there."

She folded her arms over her chest and turned her gaze from him, focusing on the overgrown path before them. "So while it started at something _personal_, I hope you'll understand why it's grown beyond that for me, and separate my urgency for getting there in time from simply being homesick."

"I didn't mean- you know, I really should just shut up," Alistair huffed at himself. "I should know better about you by now. And I shouldn't be teasing you when, clearly, the situation is more dire than we thought."

Evelyn stopped and wheeled around to stand in front of him, halting him. He opened his mouth to ask what she thought she was doing, but as she glared up at him, he lost the nerve to speak. "Alistair, you _stop that right now_," she ordered. "You are not wrong, this _is_ personal for me, and that is why I am so grateful that you are near, because I need that support. But I do need you to take this seriously."

"I will- I am," he stammered.

Transitioning suddenly from her glare to a sunny smile, Evelyn patted both of his upper arms in a friendly gesture. "Good! That's all I ask. Then I can count on you, and do _my_ job." She considered for a moment, then smiled sheepishly. "Though I may just leave the talking with the Knight-Commander up to _you_. He might respond better that way."

"Oh, no no no," he smirked. "What makes you think I'm any good at the talking thing? Haven't I proven otherwise enough already?"

Her grip on his arms tightened, and her expression softened warmly. "You give yourself too little credit, Alistair. You've kept me going this whole time with your kind words." She leaned closer to speak even softer. "You give me the courage to face this... even without the threat to loved ones to guide my actions. So do not doubt your ability to convince others."

His breath caught in his chest, where it hammered to escape. Before he could say anything further, she nodded once and broke contact to turn back on their path. They were nearing the docks, and she hesitated at the crest of the hill overlooking the lake. Alistair watched her, saw her silhouette through the moonlight reflecting off the lake, wrapped in soft light.

While the others stiffened and gasped at the wave of unexplainable horror washing over them, Alistair missed the stirring of dread in the back of his mind. He was far too distracted by the thumping in his chest, the stirring in his gut that edged ever lower, just watching their fearless leader.

He would have to puzzle out what she meant by "loved ones", with that tiny darting glance to the side and faint smile, some other time.


End file.
